


Paradise Found

by skywaterblue



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Gaila - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 08:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywaterblue/pseuds/skywaterblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were a dizzying number of Federation ships and stations she was passed through, one human hand guiding her shoulder to her next caretaker. Gaila arrives in the Federation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise Found

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http:)It's Not Easy Being Green a comment-fic thread for Gaila.

There were a dizzying number of Federation ships and stations she was passed through, one human hand guiding her shoulder to her next caretaker. They were all women, though, that she remembers - that and at the time she thought they must all be different species to be so many colors. She doesn't even remember their names because it was back when English still sounded like gibberish and they hadn't found a portable translator unit that knew Orion.

So it wasn't until she reached Earth itself that they started her through processing. The Federation Department of Immigration gave her a bulky portable communicator that attached itself via magnets to the coat they had bundled her in, and inserted an identity chip into the palm of her hand. Then she filled out paperwork with her court-appointed social worker for what seemed like hours - it probably wasn't, she was fourteen.

"When I file this form, you will be granted refugee status within the Federation for a period lasting no more than one Earth year. A translation from Earth time to a time calculator of your choosing can be found by accessing the nearest datapad. Extensions can also be granted here after the initial term is completed." Her Vulcan social worker used her stylus to demonstrate her enumerated rights, which whizzed past her ear in a verbal translation. She had clutched the audio translator so close to her head that the soft plastic was leaving marks on her hand. "Do you intend to petition for citizenship?"

Gaila felt her lungs catch. She looked around the glass room with its marble floors. It was a cold winter afternoon in Paris, nothing like her mother's harem. She wanted to curl up in the sleep nest she shared with her sisters. She wanted one of her mother's men to do the rest of this for her.

"I don't know what that is," she lied.

"Citizenship. A legal term defining personal membership of a sapient being in a political community. Citizenship confers additional rights and responsibilities upon a person, such as the right to vote."

She felt herself starting to cry. "I want to go home."

Beside her, the Vulcan shifted in her seat and tapped her stylus. "It is not logical to cry at this moment, as your refugee application has been accepted."

Gaila sniffed, and wiped her eyes with the felt ends of the coat that had been given to her. It smudged her kohl eyeshadow. "I guess I need to think about it. Is it important to do it soon?"

"The process can take many years. Adjudication is more timely for minors." Her social worker straightened in her chair. "You are not ready to decide. We will move on so that you may be taken to housing by nightfall."

T'sura took her by autocar (this was the same as on Orion Prime and it made her briefly feel comfortable despite the cold) to an apartment building for refugees, where they rode a fast turbolift to her level. T'sura also showed her how to wave her hand in front of the public maker to debit credit from her allotment, open her room door, and use the computer. "I will contact you in a week's time to schedule you for placement tests. Should you need to speak to me sooner, you may contact me by asking for me through your private datapad unit."

And then she left. Gaila curled up on the strange, rectangular sleeping area and cried herself to sleep.

In the morning, Gaila woke up feeling cold and aching. She rubbed her eyes and lifted her head, marveling at the quiet of the building. Outside, rain was falling as snow. She wrapped the blanket around her, stuffing her feet into the boots she had been given. It was lonely, she thought, without her sisters and her mother and her mother's three men.

"But I'm done crying now," she said aloud. "Gaila of the clan Kallea doesn't cry - crying is for men, not the ancestors of pirate queens." She tied the blanket around her neck like the cloaks used by clan queens in her history vids from home. Then she bundled up in the coat.

She moved into the bathing chamber; it was stocked with soap and other larder. She stuffed these things in her pockets before tying back her hair with a band. The human women who had guarded her were fastidious about their hair. She wiped yesterday's makeup from her face and applied new kohl and lipstick. "I will look more like I belong if I am neat," she said aloud. From the bathing chamber, she went to the computer unit attached to the wall and said, "Computer, display the Earth for me."

It did so immediately, with a live picture. She rotated it with her finger. It was a large planet, with many different ecosystems. She considered them, flipping though page after page about cities and continents and history. It was too much information to go through audio translation. "Computer, locate nearest transportation center."

"The nearest transportation center is located two blocks west in the plaza Arc de la Paix." She looked at the map and decided that it would be easy to find, then left the room. She went down the turbolift, smiling awkwardly at the Klingon who was already inside. He seemed to be going to the same place, so Gaila simply followed him.

Once inside, the Klingon stamped his shoes free of snow, and held a hand up to the transport pad. It flashed a word in English, then he said the name of a place to the attendant. Gaila slipped after, pressing her hand to the console and taking the next spot. In a brief moment, they went from one transporter pad to another - in a similar looking transit station. It was much warmer, however.

Gaila stepped outside to bright sunlight and a tropical beach. There were many humans and Vulcans and Tellarites laying out, absorbing the sun. The Vulcans were dressed, but the humans and Tellarites were barely clothed. Children were bouncing in and out of the surf. It looked like fun. Gaila blinked and trotted down to join them.

She took off her boots and stripped the blanket and the jacket, dropping them in a heap by the nearest wall. She pulled off the dress and then hooked the translator to her undergarments. She kicked beach sand over her clothes to hide them, then threaded her way through the resting bodies of the adults. It was a longer walk than she had thought from hot dry sand to the firm wetness of the tide.

A Tellarite girl kicked a ball in her direction. She was soaked, even down to the little whiskers on her chin. "Are you an Orion?" She asked, as Gaila picked up the ball.

"Yes," she said.

A brown human came up and laughed, "Wow. You're so green!"

Gaila raised her eyebrows and looked from him to the sand, "But you're so brown!" He blushed.

The Tellarite rolled her eyes at the boy. "That means shut up, David. Did you want to play footy with us? We're trying to keep it out of the surf."

Gaila had never played 'footy' before, but she nodded anyway. "I don't know the rules."

The human named David was still blushing, but obviously the Tellarite keeping him did not mind. "Use your feet, not your hands. That's the only rule. I'm David and this is Gr'pla."

Instantly, Gaila let the ball fall out of her hands and onto the wet sand. Then she experimentally kicked it towards Gr'pla's hooves. It was slick under her toes. Gr'pla kicked it back to her, and nodded. "Just like that."

They let her practice kicking a few times before the game began in earnest. Gaila found herself soaked within minutes, as keeping the ball away from the sea seemed very difficult. At least until she caught on that David and Gr'pla were not in earnest about the goal. After half an hour, Gr'pla announced it was time for a meal, and they climbed up the shore's cement steps. Gr'pla used her credit to get them ice creams.

"How come you're not wearing a swimsuit, Gaila?" David asked, looking at her soaked clothes. Gaila looked down and could see her green skin showing through the wet fabric holding her breasts down. She looked up to find him looking at the same direction.

Gr'pla stomped her hoof onto his foot. "Dumbass, that's not nice. They probably don't wear swimsuits on Orion." He squealed in slight pain, then slapped her visibly on the arm. Gaila's eyes widened, but Gr'pla didn't seem to care.

"I didn't know where I was going," Gaila explained to her. "I just took the first transporter out. In fact, I don't even know where I am now!"

David laughed, "This is Rio."

"You are on Earth, orbiting Sol," said Gr'pla, who crunched into her ice cream. "It would be hard to get lost."

Gaila thought about it a moment, licking the white goo at the center of the ice cream. "So are your mothers down there?"

David laughed, "My parents are in Australia! I'm fifteen, I don't need my parents to go to the beach with me."

Gr'pla snorted and said, "And mine are on Tellar. I have come here to study in preparation for my Starfleet exams." Crunch. "I didn't see any other Orions today."

Gaila blinked, taking in all the new information her friends had to offer. The taste of the cream was strange, but the chocolate covering was pleasing, as was the cold in her mouth. The cement was warm under her bare legs, and as she dried, chunks of sand flaked off. All around her, the Federation citizens played on the narrow strip of beach in peace. No one was worried about bombs or rival clans. Most of them weren't even the same species.

Her eyes started to water again. No crying, she reminded herself. "I'm alone," she said, quietly.

David and Gr'pla looked at each other over her. David stuck the rest of the ice cream in his mouth and then collapsed over the top of her in an embrace. Gr'pla ate the rest of hers, with a crunch for the stick and joined in. "That's ridiculous," David said, "You're here with us."

Gaila laughed, enjoying the weight of their bodies and then pushed them off. "Gr'pla, did you just eat the stick?"

Gr'pla nodded, "The stick is the best part."

David rolled his eyes and then nudged her again in the shoulder. "Gaila, you know how to get home, right?"

"Not really," Gaila said. "I mean. I understand the basics, but the translator doesn't do display screens."

"Then we will accompany you." Gr'pla announced, and lifted herself gracefully to her hooves. Then she pulled Gaila up.

They left her at the transport station in Paris, as David noted, "I didn't bring snow shoes." Gaila smiled (despite feeling like she might cry again, faced with the prospect of an empty apartment.) On the way back through the melting sludge, she saw the Klingon again, carrying a loaf of bread.

The Klingon kept the door open for her as she ran in. "Thanks," she whispered.

He nodded. "You are welcome." They stepped into the elevator together.

Gaila announced, "My name is Gaila of the clan Kallea, and I live on the seventh floor of this building."

The Klingon nodded again. "I am Kuph, formerly of the house of Mopak. I greet you, Gaila of the house Kallea."

She smiled at him and then got off of her floor. She had a message to send to her social worker.

**Author's Note:**

> [](http:)Dreamwidth Archive Version


End file.
